


Cherry Comforts

by HaveAGoodeDay



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Asylum
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bath Sex, Established Relationship, F/F, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Lesbian Character, Panic Attacks, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 21:17:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17030196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaveAGoodeDay/pseuds/HaveAGoodeDay
Summary: Mary Eunice's request to change their regular positions in the bedroom leads to a spiral of panic, guilt, and unexpected comfort.





	Cherry Comforts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheFandomLesbian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFandomLesbian/gifts).



> I wrote this for TheFandomLesbian because she is amazing, and she deserves much more than I can accomplish.

The  _ ding-ding  _ sound of a child riding their bike down the street, ringing the bell on their handlebars, floats in on the smothering summer heat through their open window - it makes Lana glance at the moving drapes. Sheer white fabric blowing in the breeze, she pays it little thought as her mouth seeks out the woman next to her, savoring the saltiness of sweat gathered in Mary Eunice’s cupid’s bow.  _ If it were Wendy,  _ her mind cannot stop itself from thinking sadly,  _ she’d have shut that tight. We’d have died of heat exhaustion by now.  _ The former nun in her arms squirms, her legs shift against each other as a flush deepens on her cheeks. Lana admires it; showers the red tones with peppered kisses as she goes to push Mary’s shoulder back. To lay her down. 

 

“Wait.” Mary stops her, pushes her weight into Lana’s palm so it does not nudge her. The shirt Mary wears scratches against her collarbone, material damp from perspiration. Her toes curl in the sheets, the urge to kick them away nothing but a whisper compared to the weight of desire in her lower half. “Wait. Lana?”

 

“Yeah?” 

 

Her heart swoons at her girlfriend’s retreating hands, the way her eyes keep themselves trained on Mary’s lips as she stops laying warm touches onto already burning flesh.  _ She’s so considerate,  _ Mary Eunice eyes each subtle motion, the way Lana’s bared chest rises and falls with her deep breaths. “Can I… Lana, can I try being on top?”

 

Lana - she tries to school her features, but her eye twitches, her lips curl slightly. It’s a sharp contrast to Mary Eunice’s eager expression.  Her bright blue eyes are round, they speak of the innocence of her request; she wishes no ill will. Some part of Lana expected  _ this,  _ they’re in a relationship. There’s only so many times Mary would be content with laying on her back before she’d want to see things from a different point of view. 

 

It doesn’t stop her skin from prickling, a cold bucket of ice water on the mood set. Her partner’s always been such an accommodating lover - she notices her curious, large pupils staring at her breasts more often than she thinks Mary knows, watches her lick her lips and ignore the burning need to touch her there.  _ If you won’t like it, I won’t like it.  _ The other woman’s words stick like syrup to her thoughts. 

 

Lana can  _ try,  _ because it’s Mary Eunice. She’s soft, her cheeks have a rosy glow as Lana lays back, tugs Mary Eunice on top of her to straddle her hips. The weight of her sends a chill down Lana’s spine, she calms herself by pushing up the fabric of Mary’s shirt, holding the cotton up as she admires the soft pudge of Mary’s stomach.  _ You’re both safe,  _ the time spent in this home has done good for the former nun; her jaw has rounded out sweetly, she gained weight that covers where hip bones use to stick out too much. 

 

Golden hair creates a curtain of privacy as Mary leans forward, loops her arms around Lana’s neck, it props her head up so the distance between their mouths is slightly shorter. The younger of the two tastes like cherries - a bowl of discarded pits sit on the nightstand. Lana lets her eyes fall shut, she savors the fruity flavor and parts her own lips. Mary’s tongue presses against her teeth, the tang of the fruit stronger as Mary Eunice sighs into the kiss. 

 

It shouldn’t surprise her, really, when Mary Eunice’s hips grind down into hers. Mary Eunice is obviously turned on - evident by the way fingers tug at the short hairs at the back of Lana’s neck.  Still, the relaxed way her eyes had been shut screws tighter. The second time Mary pushes her weight into her, it shoves her up the bed just slightly. Her back drags on the sheets,  _ it’s not  _ **_him._ **

 

But Mary pulls back from their kiss, her lips part in sweet little gasps as she continues to seek friction against Lana’s lower stomach. The movement makes her move on the bed, the springs squeak slightly. The older of the two knows, she tells herself, that Mary’s not going to hurt her. Even if in her head, she can feel the biting of metal on her ankle and the short chain keeping her head from hitting bed frame with each thrust; that the little grunts Mary lets out turn into groaning and swearing and something the complete opposite of her lover. 

 

Her eyes open, then, to convince herself to unfreeze - to reach for Mary and see her flushed appearance. Though, when her eyelids blink, she first sees bushy black eyebrows, glasses nearly sliding off his nose, blood on his lips from biting her breasts - 

 

“Stop!” Her yelp is loud enough, it shatters the glass of her imagination, and the pieces of Thredson’s face fall off in thick sheets to expose Mary’s underneath it all. By the time Lana really sees her, sees past  _ him,  _ she’s already jumped back, sitting at the foot of the bed with her knees folded underneath her.  _ She’s going to fall backwards,  _ Lana’s hands shake, her whole  _ body  _ shakes. It feels like she’s viewing everything through a warped lense -  it doesn’t occur to her that’s because of the tears brimming over, spilling down her cheeks as she struggles to throw her feet off the bed. 

 

“Lana?” Mary Eunice’s voice is lost on her, feet landing on the shag carpet. Her arm nearly catches on the lamp as she stands up on weak knees. The sound of Mary Eunice’s worried voice continues to call after her as she rushes to the bathroom. “Lana,  _ Lana- _ ”

The door slams between her with such force, it shakes the house. Her back pushes it, slides down the wooden barrier until her butt hits the tile floor. Hand reaching above her, it takes two attempts to successfully hear the lock  _ click  _ into place. The bathroom is no closer than the rest of the home, but her fingers grip the bottoms of her top to drag it over her knees, tucks her legs into the shirt as she brings them up to wrap in a tight embrace. There’s a deep rattling in her chest - her lungs try to suck in air but her throat feels too tight to allow any in. 

 

It’s something eerie, getting cold from the inside out; a ball of ice freezes in her gut. It spreads down her limbs like frost across each nerve ending.  _ Bright lights,  _ Lana remembers,  _ bright lights and cold tiles. Thick walls to bounce her screams back at her.  _ That’s the feeling - she wants to yell out, to cry and curse and swear - but everything that comes to mind stays there. Echoes in the space in between her ears without release. 

 

But - a noise does break through the suffocating blanket of tremors, it’s muffled through the door, and her hands. Taking her palms away from covering her ears, Lana takes note of the sunlight moving from the last she’d remember it shining through the small window as she’d slammed the door shut,  _ how long has it been?  _ Tuning into the murmurs outside, Lana shifts to the side, lets her shoulder dig into the door as she leans against it. 

 

“... those who have hurt me, and those who will hurt me.” Mary Eunice’s voice carries under the door, feather light as she prays softly, “Please pray for my own healing, from these past hurts so that I can move forward and offer forgiveness.” It’s not a prayer she’s heard Mary uttering on her knees at their bedside, but it sounds familiar, she’s heard her repeating it before. Her hand comes up, wipes at her cheeks to remove the stickiness of tears, swipes under her nose at leaking mucus. Lana goes to put her palm back down on the tile, but looks first; sees Mary’s fingers peeking from under the door, calluses from planting too many flowers in the yard. 

 

She almost brushes her fingers over the knuckles she can reach, but pauses to listen intently to Mary  talk with hushed, worried sentences. “Also, please pray for Lana. She needs your guidance, and your love. I know she won’t ask for help,” Lana’s lips twitch, she can picture Mary Eunice’s eyebrows pulling together in thought, focused solely on her requests, “She’s too stubborn for her own good. But you know that.”

 

Finally, she touches what little of Mary that she can, feels Mary Eunice jump through her fingers as she does so. The sink drips as an afterthought in the background, a steady beat that plays behind her croaked voice as she speaks, “I am not stubborn.” 

 

She doesn’t wait for Mary Eunice to reply, she sits back and opens the door - gives the thing enough room to swing open fully. The wood knocks into the plastic of the bathtub. On the other side, Mary Eunice must have been leaning against it, her hands go to catch herself and blue eyes catch Lana’s. She’s quite a vision, legs against the carpet, hair pulled up to keep it off the back of her neck in the summer heat. Mary beams at Lana - her dimples show, her smile making the feature stand out. Bangs hang too far down into her eyes,  _ I’ll have to give her a haircut, soon.  _

 

The fuzzy calico cat on her lap startles as she rocks up onto her knees, shuffles on them closer and they go from the burn of carpet to the hardness of tile. Mary’s hesitant, she reaches with both hands to bring Lana into a hug, but she  _ waits.  _ Mary Eunice lets Lana make the move to embrace her back. Her face finds the space of Mary’s neck, nuzzles into it and looks over her lover’s shoulder - spots the feline who stares at her with indifference, or a bit of bitterness from having his seat stolen. 

 

“Are you okay?” Mary speaks into her hair, her hands squeezing Lana’s middle in a protective grip. 

 

_ Am I?  _ Lana spreads her fingers out against her girlfriend’s back, brushes her thumb back and forth against the softness of the shirt and pressing into the warmth of Mary Eunice underneath it, trying to draw her closer - to somehow just wrap herself in the calmness the former nun brings her. Lana’s not  _ okay  _ in every sense, it doesn’t feel like she ever will be, but she still affirms for the moment, “I’m fine.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Mary’s apology is shaky, like she’s desperately trying to to cry and be strong for the other woman. “I didn’t mean - I wouldn’t have asked…” Chin wobbling, she pulls back and really  _ looks  _ at Lana in front of her. The splotchy redness, tinting her nose brightly,  _ I made her cry.  _ It breaks the younger of the two’s heart; her hands come up and cup her lover’s face, trying to brush off the sadness she created.  _ Stupid, stupid, stupid.  _ Mary can already see Lana start to protest, she sliences it with a question of her own, “Would you like to take a bath?”

 

Lana bites her own lip.

 

“Together?”

 

“That sounds nice.”

 

* * *

 

  
  


The radio cracks to life as Lana’s fingers twist the dials, needles moving in its front as  _ Tommy James and The Shondells  _ starts singing through the opening lyrics of whatever song they’ve decided to play - she forgets about the device almost as soon as she’s turned it on.  _ She’s beautiful,  _ is what takes the place of any dark thoughts floating through her mind as she turns to see Mary Eunice sitting on the edge of the tub, curled gathered over to one side, a soft cushion of blondeness that tickles her cheek. Mary  has her hand under the faucet, feeling the temperature as the bath fills. 

 

_ "Children, behave,” _ __  
_ That's what they say when we're together. _ __  
_ "And watch how you play," _ _  
_ __ They don't understand.

 

Mary’s toothy grin is more than enough encouragement to have her walking over, hands coming up to twist a strand of the other woman’s hand around her fingers. The room smells of roses - the bubble bath poured and turning into white, fluffy clouds on the surface of pink tinted water. They don’t really  _ speak  _ in the traditional sense; but she takes Mary’s offered hand, carefully steps over the rim of the tub and sinks into the warm embrace of the bath. Her eyes drift shut and she hums happily; only slightly congested from earlier tears. 

 

“It’s nice.” She blinks, sees Mary still perched at her side.  _ That won’t do,  _ Lana’s fingertips find the dip of Mary Eunice’s hip, pressing into the skin as she looks right back at the blue eyes looking into her own. The muted earthy colors of the bathroom are a good contrast for her - her hair seems lighter when backgrounded by the darker walls, and her thighs on the tub seem tanner compared to the bright white of the plastic they sit on. “C’mon.”

 

Lana holds on her hand, lets Mary use it to steady herself as she turns and lets her legs splash into the water, Mary Eunice standing before settling in between Lana’s legs, facing each other. It’s uncomfortable, the way the faucet pokes into her back has Mary leaning forward, the ends of her hair turning darker with wetness as they dip into the surface of the water. 

 

The position works though, even if their legs are a tangled mess - Mary’s close enough that she can easily reach Lana’s hand to intertwine their fingers underneath the water. The music continues on, but faint enough they can still hear each other breathing.  _ How did I get so lucky, to deserve her,  _ Lana watches her lover collect a puff of bubbles in her palms; watches Mary Eunice bring them up to eye-level and blows at them. 

 

Pieces of the foam catch in the slight breeze, jumping apart and scattering into light pieces that float back down like large, bulky snowflakes.  _ I don’t deserve her,  _ Lana thinks of all they’ve been through - Mary’s own literal demons, and her much more human ones - and thinks  _ maybe,  _ this was some sort of twisted fate. 

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” There’s the ever present quality to Mary’s voice, delicate and gentle and matching the very way she exists; compassionate, modest, and kind-hearted. Sometimes, Lana resents Mary Eunice’s accommodating nature, it leads her into far more trouble than it gets her out of. But in moments like  _ this,  _ with her supportive presence keeping Lana grounded, she couldn’t be more grateful for it.

 

“No, not right now.” Lana admits, though her stomach still clenches with anxiety,   _ I don’t want to ruin this.  _ The knot of nerves in her belly is unraveling as she replaces toxic, ugly memories playing like a film reel in her head with the sight before her - Mary’s freckled shoulders, the suds clinging to her as she moves. Lana’s own chest is submerged in the water, but Mary Eunice’s breasts are above the waterline, partly from leaning forward and aided by their height difference,  rosy nipples pebbled in their exposed state. 

 

“I just want to be here, with you,” Lana confesses, lips quirking up at the corners as she lets her fingers unravel from Mary’s; the plush handful of Mary Eunice’s breast fitting perfectly into her palm as she places her hand on its underside. The warm weight of it makes her head spin, Lana’s own figure leaning forward so she can bump the tip of her nose against Mary Eunice’s own.  _ Her eyes are like marbles,  _ it’s what comes to Lana’s mind as she looks into them,  _ blue glass with swirls of darker and lighter shades.  _ How did she get so lucky, to be the one that gets to see them so closely.

 

It is a shame, when they flutter shut, but the loss of them is replaced by Mary’s lips kissing the corner of her own; solid, but pliable as Lana kisses her back, straightens them out until instead of simply on the curve of her mouth, Mary Eunice’s lips part as Lana nibbles her lower one, the faint taste of her earlier snack still clinging to her, sweetening her tongue as it clumsy presses into Lana’s teeth at first. 

 

She’s come a far way, but Mary still blushes - fumbles as she goes to to reach down in between them, hand disappearing beneath the water as she struggles to focus not only on their kiss, but also her search for  _ that.  _

 

Lana’s mouth opens wider, silent but speaking volumes as Mary Eunice’s fingertip seeks out the nub of her clit, pressing down on it as soon as she rolls over the nerves. As her leg muscles unclench from the sudden touch, Lana lets out a groan; careful not to bite down of Mary Eunice’s enthusiastic tongue as she continues to reciprocate. The water splashes slightly with Lana’s eager movements to mirror Mary’s actions. Her own hand wastes no time finding the out of sight curls, the hot wetness that differs from the water it the best of ways.  _ I need to see her,  _ Lana breaks their kiss, leans back and watches Mary Eunice try to follow her, eyes still closed and lips slightly swollen.  _ She’s so pretty like this.  _

 

“Lana, that feels good.” Mary’s sigh is followed by the hum of a moan trapped in her throat. Once, when they’d started  _ this,  _ Lana had asked carefully, why she tried so desperately to contain her sounds.  _ The smoke of Lana’s cigarette had floated up toward the ceiling, the room smelled of sex, and Mary Eunice blushed as her curled up closer against Lana’s bare figure under the sheets. “I feel shameful,” Mary had admitted,  _ “ _ of how you make me lose my sense of control.”  _

 

Lana’s chest warms - something so often associated with Mary Eunice, she wonders if the feeling and the woman who causes them can be told apart; like Mary’s blue eyes, her blonde curtain of hair and the flush of her cheeks, trailing down her neck, is the personification of her love.

 

Though, as Lana groans out something that sounds like Mary Eunice’s name, a chant on her lips that falls off like water over a cliff’s edge, Lana delights in listening to Mary’s own softer noises joining her own. In the bathroom, with just the cool tiles to bounce their sounds back at them, the harmony of their love-making is rawer - something stripped down to its barest. It curls up and weighs down her chest, like a cat looking for warmth in the coldness of night. 

 

Her own breath, the panting sensation of not being able to catch her breath as jolts pulse from her lower body through her legs, up her spine, it hiccups as Mary Eunice’s thumb rubs circles, intent to make Lana feel  _ good _ . Mary Eunice - her own legs tremble against Lana’s under the water; she grinds her teeth together as Lana’s fingertips journey lower, the heel of her palm providing friction as she pushes one digit in, a squeak escaping Mary Eunice as she curls it, dragging against the spongy part that always rewards any ministrations with uncontrollable whimpers - whines that buffer off Mary’s lips in the same way her mumbled  _ hail marys  _ spill from them before bed.

 

The pad of Mary’s thumb slips, her own pleasure taking up her attention - but the sudden shift, it’s  _ almost  _ painful, and Mary Eunice fears she might of hurt Lana, given the yelp she lets out. But it’s not pain, far from it, Lana’s knees try to come together as her climax hits her like a train; voice raising in pitch as she groans through the orgasmic waves, her eyes screwing. 

 

It’s sweet, the way Mary kisses her on the cheek to bring her back to the present.  _ You’re too good to me,  _ Lana examines the flush coloring her skin, Mary Eunice’s nose bright with redness. The hand that rubbed at her center is held in the air, water dripping down the pale skin, running in fat droplets over her knuckles. It’s second nature, the way Lana catches her wrist and guides it to her mouth, sucking on her pointer finger while Mary stares at her do it with a lustful glaze over her eyes. 

 

Lana swipes Mary Eunice’s thumb over her lip, tastes herself on the digits even though it’s not as strong as when they’re in bed - the cooling bath removing a good amount of the salty flavor. Lana’s cheeks slightly hollowed, she listens to the audible  _ pop  _ that comes with the release of Mary’s finger from the warm embrace of her mouth.  _ Speaking of warm embraces,  _ Lana can practically feel Mary Eunice clench around her finger, hips raising in the water to find relief. 

 

“I love you,” She makes sure to say, makes sure to put all her emotion into that simple phrase; it’s the only thing she can think to come close to what she feels for Mary -  _ love,  _ it feels too small for what Lana wants to express. But it makes Mary Eunice smile, she must know, that it’s so much more than  _ just  _ that. Lana moves, water sloshes in the tub, spilling over the side and sounding loudly against the tile. “I  _ love  _ you.”  _ I’ll show you,  _ her legs are tangled with Mary’s; it takes great care to intertwine them, coming up on her knees. Without her form in the water, the level drops, exposes  _ more  _ of Mary Eunice. 

 

Lana uses her free hand, lets the fingers tangle in Mary’s blonde curls and guide her head as she pushes her back - careful of the faucet. The position has Mary Eunice dipping into the bath up to her shoulders, chin touching the surface and her heels hiked up onto the edges of the tub, legs framing Lana hovering above her.

 

“I luh-love you too, Lana.” Mary’s voice hitches, her arms scramble to loop around Lana’s neck, to keep her from falling back and under the water. With how short of breath she feels, Mary Eunice fears she’ll drown.  _ She’d never let you fall,  _ a voice reminds Mary;  _ you look out for each other.  _

 

Lana’s finger moves, she refuses to bury her face in Mary Eunice’s shoulder, wanting to watch the woman beneath her come undone. It’s a movie she’s watched countless times since the first time she’s seen it; like finding a song, and playing it over and  _ over  _ again on repeat. The way Mary’s lips part, she breathes heavy, it’s a game - trying to time the pull of her digits with the unsteady rhythm. Mary Eunice never closes her eyes, not for long anyway,  _ she always looks like that, like there’s such a beautiful thing is above her - even her own instinct to tighten her eyes shut is fought of by her need to see it.  _

 

The fact  _ Lana  _ is that thing, she doesn’t think she will ever get use to. 

 

“I’m going to-  _ Lana,  _ harder.” It’s such an oddity, the word falling from Mary Eunice’s lips. But Lana complies, the water moves, the muscles in her arm tighten; Mary grunts out a series of murmurs that sound awfully close to her name.  _ Lana, Lana, Lana -  _ Mary Eunice’s orgasm builds like a fire starts. Slowly, stoking her flames with bruises kissed into the pale skin of her neck, hickeys marking her as Lana’s. 

 

Her climax - it comes with the addition of a second finger - she whimpers and her body stills, only Mary Eunice’s hips canting up into Lana’s touch, her arms tighten their hold so she can lift herself up, out of the water. With the loss of Mary’s full body, the waterline dips even lower as she nuzzles into the curve of Lana’s neck, nose bumping into the warmth of Lana’s heartbeat thundering through her pulse. 

 

Lana almost  _ regrets  _ the fact she has to remove her fingers, she eases the loss with kissing Mary Eunice’s temple, peppering kisses along it as she holds her lover through the afterglow and the tender shudders that quakes Mary’s physique. 

 

The water’s gone cool around them, dropping below the temperature of the humid air. “The bath’s gotten cold,” Mary whispers faintly, lips brushing against Lana’s jawline, “We didn’t even bathe.”

 

“We still could.” Lana suggests, pulls back and snorts at Mary Eunice’s crinkled nose at the idea. Her curls hangs in wet clumps, sticking together against her shoulders that Lana gathers up in one hand,  “C’mon, let me wash your hair.”

 

“A cold bath?” Mary wonders outloud, her voice confused,  _ why on Earth would you tolerate such a thing?  _ But Lana’s hands have reached for shampoo, the lavender scent filling the space as it’s worked into Mary Eunice’s scalp. It  _ is  _ enjoyable, the coolness keeping the hot summer temperatures at bay. It also makes her more aware of Lana’s warmth, keeps the flush on her cheeks brightly crimson. 

 

“Yes,” Lana affirms, she sighs contently. “We’ll finish up, and then we’ll go eat dinner, and go to bed.  _ Without  _ getting dressed.” She puts an emphasis on the word, like a child sharing a swear word on the school playground. The smile is heard in her speech, it makes Mary Eunice feel giddy. “It’s too hot, don’t you think?” 

 

Mary lets her head lull toward Lana’s attention, humming in agreement, 

 

“Definitely too hot.”

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
